


The Perfect Recipe (for Disaster)

by failufail



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU but still Insomnia, Eventual Romance, F/M, Food Porn in Words, Work In Progress, more characters will be added later, rated for language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 04:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21173591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failufail/pseuds/failufail
Summary: Chef Ignis Scientia is the renowned Chef de Cuisine ofAmbrosia, Insomnia's best and most exclusive restaurant.You're an unemployed Sous Chef. You have to learn from the best to be the best. Too bad that's easier said than done.





	The Perfect Recipe (for Disaster)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my WIP folder for quite some time now, and I've finally come around on deciding to continue and publish it. As of now, I'm not committing to a set updating schedule, because I'm currently still working on another fic that already has one. Once that's done, I'll decide on something. Sporadic and unexpected updates, yay!
> 
> Anyway, I am a foodie. It's embarrassing how much I love trying new things, making different dishes, and going to posh (and not-so-posh) restaurants to see what the hubbub is about. That being said, I've always been partial to Ignis because of his fun little "extra" cooking skill in game. (And the fact that he is stupidly so darn attractive.) If Lucis and Insomnia operated like the real world, I would've pinned him as a Chef. He's definitely got the attitude for it.

You flopped on the couch, exhausted from a long day of job hunting. Finding a vacant sous chef position was the worst, since they were few and far between unless you knew the right people to get you in.

“No luck today?” a deep voice asked from the direction of the kitchen.  
  
“I hate looking for a job,” you told him, flopping your arm over your eyes.   
  
He came over bearing two hot Cup Noodles with sliced beef and scallions on top. It wasn’t exactly the quality meal you were used to, but it was comfort food. And you definitely needed comfort food right now.   
  
“Thanks, Gladio.”   
  
Gladiolus Amicitia was one of your closest friends in Insomnia. The guy was big, burly, and handsome with a voice like butter. He had girls fawning over him everywhere he went, and he knew it— boy did he know. Flirting was one of his many specialties, and he could literally make a girl wet just by the rumble of his voice, or even just a flash of his smile.   
  
It worked for him in the best ways, though. During the day he worked security for Caelum Industries, one of the wealthiest corporations in Insomnia, and by night he moonlit as a bartender at Ambrosia, the best (and most expensive) restaurant in the city. It was highly rated, and from what you heard, the dishes were impeccably plated, mouthwatering masterpieces. You’ve never been there before, and probably would never, considering the wait list and the high price tag.   
  
“You know,” Gladio started, “I’ve been hearing things at the restaurant. I think the Sous Chef position in Ambrosia might be up for grabs soon.”   
  
“Are you serious?”   
  
Of course you were interested. You would literally give your left tit to work with Chef Ignis Scientia. The guy was legendary in the culinary world, considering his young age. He was a culinary genius. His menus were creative, even toeing the line of risky, but they would always end up being culinary masterpieces. Each menu was completely different from the last— the flavors, the colors, and the various ways he would use the ingredients—he was truly a talent in the kitchen.   
  
“Yeah. I was out with a few servers and Chef Aeren the other night, and he told us that he got the green light on a space for his restaurant in Lestallum from an investor,” he explained calmly, taking another mouthful of noodles. “So I think that it’s only a matter of time that he’ll be giving his two weeks.”   
  
You slammed your fork down on the table. “Gladio, you have to get me an interview.”   
  
“I’ll see what I can do when he does give his notice.” He sat back on the couch, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know though. Chef Iggy’s kind of a hard-ass as a boss. Guy’s a fucking perfectionist in the kitchen. Last week, he lost it on one of his cooks because his plating wasn’t perfect.”   
  
“Honestly, I wouldn’t expect any less,” you said, shrugging. “Producing the kind of food he does, I’m going to make a bet that he’s a fucking general on the line.”

“Yeah but he made a server cry because she asked for a modification on one of his dishes,” Gladio stated. “He went off on her, called her _ and _ the guest who asked for the modification ‘uncultured sacks of dog feces.’ I am not shitting you.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort at the quote. Yeah, the guy was probably a pompous asshole, but you couldn’t blame him entirely. He was probably proud of his creations, and damn you if you were to undermine his efforts in creating the perfect dish by asking for a change. Hell, he’d probably even tell you to order something else in the event you were allergic to an ingredient.

“Are you saying I can’t handle myself?”

“No, I’m saying that the guy is an asshole in the kitchen. I’m sure you can handle yourself, but I’m not so sure about your mouth.”

Gladio had a point. You didn’t take shit from anyone, even your superior. That’s what got you in trouble at your last job, and why you were now looking for a new one.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shit-eating grin, “you seem to love it.”

The circumstances under which Gladio and yourself became friends were kind of questionable at best. The two of you met while you were out with some friends after work one night. It pretty much went like this: you saw a hot guy, you introduced yourself to said hot guy, by then end of night you were making out with him in a taxi and ended up in his apartment where the two of you had some mind-blowing sex. You and Gladio tried the relationship thing for a little while after that—going on dates and things of the sort, but eventually the both of you came to the conclusion that you were better at being friends.

With benefits. Sometimes.

It was one of those relationships you thought could never actually exist. It wasn’t like the two of you slept with each other on a frequent basis either. He’s had a relationship to two since the both of you decided on becoming roommates, and so did you. Sex with Gladio was more like a release for the days when the stress had built up too much, and you were sure it was the same for him.

So, joking about sex was free game in the apartment.

Gladio shrugged and gave you a thoughtful look. “Unless you’re planning to use it _ that _ way on him—actually, maybe he could use a good lay to get the stick out of his ass.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. Just see if you can get me in, okay?”

* * *

True to his word, Gladio did manage to get you an interview a couple weeks later. Unluckily for you, you were still unemployed. Although you may have delayed answers to a few offers while you waited for this opportunity to pop up. Maybe.

You walked into Ambrosia with your head held high. You were dressed professionally for this interview in a sleek pants suit, heels, and your hair slicked back in a bun. The sleeves of your suit jacket covered the large tattoo on your right arm, but the tendrils of the large design peeked through on your wrist.

You left your name with the hostess, who directed you to sit at the bar for the time being while she went to tell the Chef you were here.

It was late afternoon, a couple hours before they would open for dinner. Gladio was already at the bar, making sure everything was cleaned and stocked for his shift. He smiled at you as you sat down.

“So can I get you a glass of water or anything?”

“Maybe a shot of Jack to calm my nerves.” You may or may not have been joking as you let out a nervous laugh.

“You’ll do fine.” His eyes shifted to look behind you. “So excuse me while I go finish the rest of my prepwork. Good luck.”

You turned to find the chef walking toward you. Immediately, you stood up to greet him.

You’ve seen Chef Ignis Scientia in pictures before, so you already knew how handsome he was. However, seeing him in his element, in his chef scrubs, sleeves rolled up and apron tied around his waist from just working in the kitchen was really very attractive. He pushed his glasses up his nose with a single finger and your eyes met with pools of green.

“Y/N, I assume?” His arms were folded across his chest, making no apparent move to shake your hand even if you had offered, but he did have a slight smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“Yes. It’s an honor to meet you, Chef.”

“You are interested in the Sous Chef position, correct?”

You nodded.

“Tell me about your prior experience.”

You rattled off a list of your previous jobs in the culinary industry—who you worked under, and what you did. It wasn’t a very long list, but the length of time you were in each position gave you a little leverage. Besides, the chefs you did work with weren’t slouches in the industry either, so that would most likely give you some positive points. You were confident in your delivery.

“You seem to be very well rounded,” Ignis concluded. “Your resume looks good on paper, but I’d like to see how well you perform in the kitchen. Are you available now?”

That, you didn’t expect. Usually if a chef wanted you to come in and stage* it would be a day or two later. The surprise was written on your face, and the struggle for an answer was real—you didn’t have your scrubs and you certainly didn’t expect to have to drop everything (oh, who were you kidding—you were still unemployed) to do this.

“It is short notice, so I apologize in that regard,” he said with a sigh. “However, I’ve already interviewed and staged a handful of prospective chefs, and would like to make my decision rather quickly. My current sous chef will be leaving sooner than expected.”

“I see…” you responded. “I don’t mind, but I’m not exactly dressed to work in the kitchen.”

“That is not a problem. We do have an extra chef coat you can borrow, and I can look over the rest of your attire. However…” He glanced down at your shoes.

You cleared your throat and held up your tote bag. “I have a pair of flats, so don’t worry. I take the subway, and I’m not a huge fan of walking around the city in three-inch heels.”

“Very good.” He gave you the slightest flash of a smile. “Then follow me, and I’ll get you set up.”

You were a mix of nervous, excited, and happy. As Ignis turned to lead you to the back, you turned to look over at Gladio to give him a thumbs up.

Everything after that went by in a blur. After you changed, Ignis briefly introduced you to the kitchen staff. He gave you pictures of the various dishes, and descriptions of preparations and plating on each one as a guide. You got yourself accustomed to the kitchen as well as you could and looked over the guide as you set up the line in a way to make you feel comfortable.

The first ticket rolled in at around 5:20. After that the kitchen didn’t see a break until it’s last table finished. You were there the whole service, and that was something you didn’t expect, but you felt like you did fine—you held your own, worked the line as best you could, returned dishes that weren’t up to par, jumped into stations when they were weeded, and would ask questions if needed. It was certainly something you were used to at this point in your career, but not quite on this level. Through the night, you felt Ignis’ eyes on you as he was probably watching your every move. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world, but you didn’t expect anything different. Thankfully, he didn’t interrupt you through the whole service.

You were busy wiping down a counter when Ignis beckoned you to come into his office.

“You surprised me,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He had a thoughtful look on his face, as if he were pondering his next words. “Still a little rough around the edges, but you have potential.”

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. You decided to stay silent.

“Let me ask you, Y/N, why do you want to work here?”

“Well,” you took a deep breath, “it’s the best restaurant in Insomnia. You’re one of the best Chefs in Lucis. I just really want to learn from the best. I mean, regardless of the pay, I think working here would make me a better chef.”

Ignis hummed at your response. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. The silence stretched out for longer than you wanted. He just observed you for that moment, probably thinking about if he should crush your dreams or not.

“Come back tomorrow for lunch service. Perhaps I can better acquaint you with the menu, and the general duties of the position, though I think you do understand that already.”

_ Did he just say what I think he said? _ you thought to yourself in utter shock. He didn’t outright _ say _ that he was offering you the position, but it sure as hell was damn close to it. “Does that mean…?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

You thanked him politely, even though you really wanted to hug him—you were so happy. He didn’t have a response to your gratitude other than a tight-lipped smile and shaking the hand you offered to him.

“I don’t normally hire someone this quickly, but do know I have been pressed for time in the hiring process, and you are the only prospective candidate that has impressed me,” he said, almost condescendingly.

No, it was _ definitely _ condescending and an _ absolutely _ backhanded compliment. It gave you pause. You really didn’t know how to respond to that.

“You may leave,” Ignis finally said.

_ Is this guy serious? _

You turned on your heel and left his office, really confused over that last bit of your conversation. As excited as you were to work for the man, you really couldn’t help but think the guy really was an asshole like Gladio said, and he was just trying to be nice. Tomorrow could possibly be a completely different Ignis, and that worried you a little. You decided to deal with that tomorrow, though.

Changing out of your scrubs, you finally let your hair down and made your way to the front of the house to leave. As soon as you opened the door, you saw Gladio out front, leaning against his motorcycle with his arms folded across his chest.

“Need a ride home?” he asked.

“Tell me you didn’t purposely wait for me,” you said with a smirk.

“Nah, I just finished a little while ago. How’d it go?”

“Well… I’m coming back tomorrow for lunch.”

His eyes widened and he unfolded his arms, gesturing you over for a hug. “Congrats! I knew you’d do awesome!” He enveloped you in his arms in his trademark bear hug. When you pulled back, Gladio looked a little confused and asked, “He did offer you the job, right?”

“Oh yeah,” you responded, rolling your eyes. “He was kind of mean about it though; said I was the only candidate to impress him.”

“Yup, sounds like him.”

“I’m really in for it tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you though,” Gladio said with a shrug. “But anyway, let’s go celebrate. Drinks on me!”

With that, you hopped on his bike and zoomed away.

**Author's Note:**

> ***stage** (in culinary/restaurant terms) - pronounced “staahj”; an audition/internship of sorts to see if a person is the right fit for the kitchen; can last anywhere from one day to one month and is generally unpaid


End file.
